Life in an Instant
by Disneyspine
Summary: Sometimes you have to grow up. And sometimes growing up transforms the adventures of your childhood into indistinguishable dreams. And sometimes...those dreams can be resurrected.


_For Mercedes_

As I grew older, things like closets that could take you to other worlds and big furry blue monsters seemed more like a far-off dream. It was sort of like having to accept that you will never have super powers, and that you will never be able to be a princess - it was something that had to happen, though you were reluctant about it.

Believe me, I was reluctant. I held onto that dream, those friends of my childhood as long as I could. Throughout daycare and pre-school, I talked about my adventures in that world, and everyone was in awe. They all thought it was really cool! They all wanted to be me!

As we moved into elementary, they all still thought me relatively cool, but they were having dreams of their own. They wanted to astronauts, and veterinarians, and teachers - that was their dreams. And then, they had dreams about girlfriends and boyfriends, and having children one day.

I shared none of those dreams, because I was still stuck in dreams of my own - dreams of a far off place where there were good monsters, living in beautiful cities, much like our own.

When we hit middle school, dreams of being astronauts died away with NASA. Dreams of being veterinarians were dashed when they realized all that being a vet entailed - namely, having to put animals down. Dreams of being a teacher vanished completely when the teachers became more vocal about the amount of money they were being paid for all the hours they put in. However, dreams of boyfriends and girlfriends only grew, along with a...willingness to become more intimate.

Once again, I found myself alone. However, this time was different. I was more aware of the fact that I was alone, for it seemed like that dream that was once so vivid, was slowly fading away from me.

When I became a high-schooler, I joined the school newsletter team. Each week, I would write a short story. One week I was daring, and I wrote about that place, meaning it to be a fictional piece.

But people remembered about how I used to talk about that place, and how weird I used to be. And there I was, alienated once more. Only this time was a different type, because I was aware I was alone - there was no self-imposed isolation then.

I went to college, not having a clue as to what to study. I took a few journalism classes, but my writing wasn't passionate enough. I took some art classes, but my inspiration had faded to broken black and white images, merely odd dreams conjured up by my mind.

Eventually I ended up in business classes. Learning how to balance accounts, and how to buy and sell stuff. Learning how to type business letters, and how to use Microsoft Excel. Learning how to loose myself.

After I graduated, not at the top of my class and not at the bottom, I got a job. In business. Where I used the skills I learned, and where I sat in a cubicle each day. The most exciting moments came from time spend talking around the water cooler.

Slowly, I gained acquaintance-friends. You know, the type of people that would be considered friends, if only you opened up a bit more to them, and they likewise to you? Well, I gained some of them, and we did some things. We went out to bars. Watched romantic comedies. Occasionally went to the gym.

Eventually they began to believe I needed a man to be happy. So they sent me out onto numerous blind dates. Most ended...not so much in disaster, but with limited-to-no attraction on either part.

And then I met him. He seemed nice and smart, so we began dating. Three years later we were married and had a child on the way. I loved him, and that was plain and simple.

However, that love never felt complete. It always felt sort of empty, like it was half-hearted on both of our parts. It was only when our baby boy was born, and was quickly growing up into a young man, that our love truly became strengthened.

You see, one night, we heard this sound coming from our little boy's room. It was laughing, absolutely wild laughter that just plain warmed your heart to hear. So of course, being confused, we went to check on him. He was still young then, so his words were really mixed up. However, he continuously thrust his finger towards his closet, before erupting into more giggles.

Eventually we went back to bed, figuring it was nothing.

The next day though, a Saturday, our little boy spent the entire day drawing. Most of the "works of art" were unintelligible scribbles. However, one time, my husband bent over to look at the drawings and gasped.

"What is it?" I asked, glancing up at him. He didn't once look at me though, instead holding up one of the pictures. It was the vague form of some sort of creature, mostly consisting of orange scribbles.

"It's George," he whispered, awed.

"Who?"

Only then did he look at me, brief panic darting across his face. However, when he glanced down once again, the panic disappeared, awe taking it's place once again.

He picked up a drawing, which mostly consisted of a green circle with four green lines coming out of it as mock arms and legs. Inside the circle was mostly scribbled in, except for a wide, toothy smile and one singular, large eye.

"Mike Wad...Was...Wata," our little boy stuttered, holding up the picture proudly.

Together, my husband and I whispered, "Mike Wazowski."

I looked at him in shock and he returned the gesture. Neither of us said a word, as our child continued to babble, trying to pronounce the monster's name.

Finally, I forced my mouth opened, and uttered the only words that came to my mind. "You...still remember?"

He blinked in shock, before smiling shyly. "Of course. Always."

I gave my two week notice on Monday, and left the second it was up. You see, something had happened to me after that conversation with my husband. Something of that grey curtain lifted, leaving the world how it had been when I was younger: Vibrant, and full of color.

I began to write again, and apparently that writing was good. One of my stories, about a little girl named Boo that had an incredible adventure inside her closet with a big, furry, blue and purple monster and a one-eyed green monster was especially popular.

Some animation studio even said they wanted to make a movie out of it.

**_A/N I've got to say, that this is probably one of the favorite things I have ever written. I truly hope you enjoyed! Also, fun fact: Boo/Mary's husband in this I based off the character in the end of Monster's Inc (the boy that Mike made laugh because he burped up the microphone)._**

**_If you have a request for any story within any of the Disney-Pixar animated fandoms, please feel free to request, either by reviewing or sending a PM!_**

**_Thank you for reading, and please review!_**


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